Nine Lives
by onetimetrip
Summary: A cat has nine lives, or so they say.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

They say a cat has nine lives.

They say, with each life passed, the cat grows out a new tail.

He never really understood why, or who thought up of this. He just thought that it was stupid, a tall tale that never needed his attention.

In the first place, cats in his reality were of many different, different types. Meowth, Persians, Skitty, Purrloin. In fact, none of them had nine lives. None of them grow out any tails. And the one Pokemon that had nine tails, did not have nine lives.

It was dumb story. A dumb lie.

Or that was what he thought.

As he found himself staring down, at the colorful spots dashing back and forth on the grey concrete road, he realized how small everything looked like. He was here, looking over the vast city. He felt huge, infinite, superior, but he knew such thoughts were just lies.

He was small. Tiny. Compared to all those little cars and metal buildings surrounding him.

Honking and shouting permeated the air, indefinitely suffocating him as his eyes never bothered to blink. He thought he should turn back, climb over the railing, wear his shoes, and leave. Pretend nothing happened. Pretend he never tried to commit suicide.

But pretending to pretend, was also a lie.

He was Red.

For all his thirty-four years worth of life, he climbed to the peak, before he was pushed down again, and again, and again, by children much younger than himself. He was one of the best in his prime, no, he was the best.

But even that faded into a lie.

The League abandoned him. No one took notice of him. His Pokemon were taken into custody by the League. No one cared that he was still there. His Pokedex was stolen, all the glory recorded within snatched away. No one bothered that he suffered. His trainer license was stripped off. No one stood up for him.

The last straw came when _she_ died.

He felt used. Like a puppet once controlled by strings. And now someone seemed to cut off those strings, telling him he was no longer significant.

A gust of wind blew at his back, forcing him to lose his balance, and he fell.

See, even nature wanted him gone.

His vision went red. He didn't know why, but he was quite sure this was his curse. His red eyes that had stayed with him for thirty-four years closed, as Red waited for the impact to come.

He was quite sure what he wanted.

He wanted to end his lie.

That was all.


	2. First Life

_First Life_

He was pretty sure he died. The pain was enough to kill him inside out.

But here he was, lying in a heap of garbage. The sky was grey, dreary, a single streetlight above him, few crows perching on top of the metal bar.

He blinked, finding himself strangely free of pain, and free of weight. He was light, exceedingly so.

Struggling to pick himself up, he spotted his hand.

No, a paw.

He yelped, but the sound came out like a weak kitty cry. He yelped again, as he scrambled around, and then he slide downwards, down the garbage heap. He landed right into a puddle, splashing grimy water all over himself. Shocked beyond words, he frantically gazed at the muddy reflection of himself.

A cat.

Black like the night. With a pair of red eyes staring back at him.

He backed away, leaning against the black mess of rubbish. He panted, before he went back to stare at his reflection.

He was a cat. Sleek, muscular, and dirty. A long tail attached to his behind. He waved it, so naturally that it frightened him.

This wasn't right. This must be a lie. He thought to himself.

He should have died.

He stared at his reflection again.

He was a plain cat. He was not a Meowth, not a Skitty, not a Purrloin.

He looked up at the crows perching on the streetlight. They too, were ordinary birds. Not Murkrows, Pidgeys, or anything.

He dashed out of the alley, away from the garbage heap. The crows, startled by the sudden movement of the cat, reacted immediately by flying away.

The road was deserted, no other living beings in sight.

A chill ran up his spine, and in a frantic fervor, he dashed off, not caring where he is going. Then he saw dogs, but not Zigzagoons, Poochyenas, Lillipups or anything. It just occurred to him, that they were just dogs. Then there were bugs, but not huge Pincers, Scythers or anything, they were just bugs, tiny and insignificant.

There was no mistake. His current reality, was a reality where Pokemon don't exist.

And he, once a thirty-four year old man, became a cat.

A black cat with red eyes.

* * *

After a week of barely scraping by, Red had a rough idea where he was. Somehow, he was still equipped with human intelligence, and was able to read the words of this reality. He read dates torn out from calendars, he read road signs, he read all kinds of things.

First, he was sure that in this world, Pokemon never existed.

Second, creatures like himself were called animals. Insects. Fish. Plants. And plants never moved. And that was weird. Dragons don't exist. Fairies don't either. They were just myths or mere imagination.

Third, humans were the same, almost a perfect copy of humans from the world he was once from. The only difference, was that most don't train animals, insects, fishes, or plants. They either keep them locked up in places called pet shops, and the animals themselves are only able to get out of that place once a human buys them, or they keep them in zoos, where humans goggle at these animals all day.

He himself was perceived to be like a monster. Apparently black cats were a sign of bad luck. And with red eyes, humans often scream "devil!" and try to fend him off. Not like he wanted to have anything to do with them.

Even when he was once human, he was never really welcomed by people. His red eyes scared them.

All except for one person.

But even she disappeared.

God must have wanted to curse him with these pair of red eyes. Red like the devil. A color that kept others away from him. The color that kept him alone.

 _Red is the color of fate._

"Oh, shut up." He said to no one in particular. Not like anyone or anything could understand him, since his words came out all "meow, meow meow".

Plus, nothing from the past mattered to him now. He always wanted to throw it away, and now he could. And he will.

Lost in thought, he accidentally bumped into something. He groaned, before he realized a human-shaped shadow looming over him.

"I like it."

He stopped short.

He knew this voice.

His neck stiffened, and he slowly looked up, red eyes widening in bewilderment.

"You have beautiful eyes, Mr. Cat."

It can't be.

Long, golden locks flowing all the way to her waist, her petite face looking at him with a sort of curiosity. She wore a school uniform, blue skirt, white blouse. The blue fitted her perfectly, like it always did. And as always, he found himself drowning in her marine blue eyes.

He ran. Not caring where he was going.

"Wait, Mr. Cat! Wait!"

Her voice faded away, and for a moment there, Red thought about going back.

But he knew it was a lie.

Even that girl there, was a lie.

Like it has always been.

* * *

He couldn't help it.

He just couldn't.

His love for her, even after being reincarnated into a black cat, stayed.

Even though somewhere in his mind, he told himself that she was a lie, another part was trying to convince him that she was real. That she was miraculously in the same reality as he was, waiting for him to love her. Or maybe it was him, who was waiting for her to love him.

But he was a cat.

He knew that, but he did not care.

He loves her.

He returned to the spot where he first saw her, hoping that one day she would come again.

And she did.

But he knew she did not specially walked past that particular alley just to see him. She just happened to pass by that alley whenever she walked to and back from her school.

Sometimes he would follow her, without her noticing, to her school, to the gate, ensuring she was safe. And on her way home, he would stay close, just enough for her to not take notice of his presence, and follow her all the way back to her house. She lived in a middle-class family, with loving parents, and at school, she had trustworthy friends.

The more he stayed by her unnoticed, the more he realized one thing.

She did not need him.

Not anymore.

Then he remembered.

The past was the past.

She wouldn't remember him. Not ever.

He was just a puppet without strings.

As the thought struck him, he gazed upwards, towards her bedroom window.

He felt his heart getting torn out of his chest. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. Probably because he experienced a pain worse than this before.

A flash of memory went through his mind. He winced, shook his head and hurriedly walked off on all fours.

Her bloody body lying before him was something he never wanted to see ever again.

* * *

Red was numbed to everything. Kids threw rocks at him, but he nimbly dodged them, and walked off as if nothing happened. Other cats spat at him and tried to attack him, but he threw them a hateful glare, and all of them slunk away, too scared to try. Most adults avoided him, while some simply ignored him. The angry ones would take a stick or anything they have their hands on and try to shoo him away.

Most days, he scavenged for food in the heaps of rubbish in the alleyways, often finding scraps within the mess.

Other days, he would then walk to the park when he felt like it, stay under the bridge the whole day, watching the fish swim, and occasionally, if he felt hungry, he used his paws to catch the slimy things. They weren't exactly tasty, but he couldn't complain. He was a cat, after all.

Months passed, and he was soon used to this lifestyle.

And before long, he heard stories about himself from the humans. The Grim Reaper's messenger. The Devil's pet. There was even this tale that if he were to stay near a human's house for more than thirteen minutes, that particular house would be cursed.

Lies.

He couldn't care less anymore. He couldn't quite trust anything anymore.

In most places, he could be seen roaming around. But there was just one stretch of road he would never go near to.

The route she always took when she went to and back from school.

* * *

 _You have beautiful eyes, Mr. Cat._

Her earnest eyes stared at him, blue like the vast ocean. He would gladly drown in them.

Until, all of a sudden, those eyes turned red, blood red. Like the red of his own pupils.

 _Help, Red._

The girl before him started disintegrating, like ice breaking into bits.

"Mr. Cat! So this is where you've been!"

He woke up with a start, cold sweat running down his neck, the nightmare ending abruptly. But before him, stood the love of his life, and for a moment there, he couldn't quite grasped which one was the real nightmare.

He froze. Warm, gentle hands wrapped around his abdomen, and soon he was lifted up, effortlessly, by the girl. Before he knew what was going one, Red found himself carried by the girl, within her bosom, like a baby. For a moment, he relished in her warmth, the warmth he had long forgotten. The sound of her heartbeat was like a lullaby that made him forgot about everything.

But not for long.

He struggled, and tore himself away from her.

"Mr. Cat!"

 _How did she find him? How? Why?_

Such thoughts ran through his mind as he ran away.

 _Red is the color of fate._

"No." He hissed.

The awful memory came by: her body, trapped beneath the truck, crushed. Her long golden locks stained by blood.

 _Red is the color of death._

He finally stopped running. Panting, he scanned his surroundings. Right now, he was next to the main road. Some humans stared at him with disgust, but he ignored them. He had to make sure he had shake her off.

"Wait!"

He turned over, just to see her running towards him.

And in return, he jumped over the short fence, onto the road. Amidst the numerous cars, he felt lost, and realized that it was a bad move for him to land right in the middle of the grey concrete stretch.

And once again, he realized he was small. Tiny. All the cars were huge. Superior. And here he was. A tiny black cat so insignificant that it did not matter to them.

Then there came a truck.

The black cat stood still. He knew he could move. He could easily run away and dodge the truck.

But he knew what he wanted.

It was time to end this lie once again.

"No!"

She threw her body over him, covering him.

His eyes widened.

The truck was coming, and as it approached with certainty, the same painful memory came over him.

Her body, crushed underneath the truck, golden locks stained with blood.

 _No! Please! Don't leave me here! Please!_

He couldn't protect her.

 _My dear, sweet Yellow._

It all happened in a blur.

His vision turned blood-red. Like the day he fell off the roof.

The girl found herself being pushed away, and she landed on the pavement with a thud. Wincing, she looked up.

And then she saw him.

A raven-black haired male, wearing a red vest and ripped jeans. A warm fuzzy feeling hugged her tight, as she found herself seeing those warm, red eyes.

Yet, the moment she blinked, he disappeared.

The truck on the road suddenly skidded to a stop, while a few cars behind braked violently. Soon, a train of cars banged into each other. The drivers all came out out of the damaged vehicles in a rage, some suffering from light bruises and scratches, but none in mortal danger. They collectively screamed at the truck driver, who came down from his vehicle with a dazed look.

"I-I was about to hit this boy! B-B-But he disappeared!"

"You must be hallucinating! You only killed a black cat!"

"Who cares! Pay the damages to my car!"

As the arguing ensued, the whole road was in an instant, congested, with multiple honks and shouting ringing throughout the whole stretch. No one paid any notice to the girl who ran towards the dead cat. She gently picked it up, carrying it lovingly as tears streamed down her cheeks. The blood stained her hands, her golden locks.

She didn't know why her heart hurt so much. It was as if the organ was torn out of her chest violently, agonizingly.

Who was that boy?


	3. Second Life

Second Life

His eyes flashed open.

The familiar sight of a dreary sky knocked him back from hell. He was lying flat on the river bank, his black fur wet. He rolled to the side, picking himself up, before he cautiously went to the edge of the river, finding his familiar reflection.

The red eyes stared at him, in a sort of reprimanding manner.

Then he noticed his tails' appearance.

Nine lives.

He waved the tails gently. It was a strange sight to bear, since the fact that he could suddenly manipulate two tails felt unreal.

He was at his second life.

A clap of thunder, and all a sudden, the rain poured down. He gazed up, shutting his eyes, bathing himself under the pelting droplets of water, feeling as if his soul was being cleansed.

He managed to save her.

He managed to do something he failed to do in the past.

But seeing her again, and then parting, he couldn't help wonder.

Was God tormenting him? Punishing him for being the Grim Reaper's messenger? For being the Devil's pet?

Or is he giving him a second chance?

He breathed out heavily as he waved his tail nimbly.

If this was a lie, he would gladly go along with it.

* * *

In his first life, even if he was only alive for mere months, he was quite sure all the streets were ingrained into his memory. But this time, he could recognize nothing. In fact, this was a different city, a different road, a different place.

It was more bustling than ever, as if some sort of industrial force had magically conjured up all those buildings, and had created a million more people to walk around the concrete grounds.

He wondered why he would be reincarnated in such a place.

Was she here?

Or perhaps, someone else? Something else?

He gracefully jumped up onto the guard rail, watching the cars whizzing past him.

He did not know where exactly he was going, but he continued to walk.

"Ew."

Red gulped nervously. He recognized this voice. The self-important tone, the disgust hidden behind those words.

"Hey guys, look at this cat."

He turned to his right, just to see a male with a spiky hair-do, his green eyes scrutinizing him like he was a sort of deformed monster.

The male's hand reached out, grasping Red's tail strongly.

He froze, as he was suddenly lifted up by the tail. He winced as his tail was pulled. Frightened, angry and shocked at the same time, he did the most logical thing.

His claws scratched the male's arm, the wound red and bleeding.

"Ow! F***!" Cursed the male, as he let go of Red's tail. Red wasted no time to run along the rail, escaping from the fuming teenager.

"Red-eyed Devil! I swear, once I get my hands on you, you're dead meat!" Howled the teenager

Red dashed away. Even these threats and insults sounded familiar. The same foul mouth. The same green eyes.

Green Oak.

* * *

Finally finding peace in one of the small, fairly clean alleyways, Red rested his lethargic body against the wall lined with graffiti.

So his second life was this mess.

Dealing with Green Oak.

He was not quite on friendly terms with the person himself in his past life. In fact, Green Oak was the biggest bully ever during his childhood. But if he thought about it, Green had self-proclaimed himself as Red's only rival.

He started recollecting what were the loose ends he had with Green Oak. Other than triumphing over him every single match.

Red's cat face fell, when a thought struck him.

He supposed he never said goodbye to him before he went off to kill himself. No, wait.

 _I will win, the next one, for sure!_

Green never won against him. Not even once.

* * *

"I swear I'll get that black cat once I see it again!" Green Oak yelled.

"Oh come on, man, it's just a black cat! You're drunk." One of his friends laughed. "How many days has it been? Ten? Twelve? It ain't gonna come again, man! Probably died in some gutter!"

"Yeah, he's right, you know. Why stress over some black cat!" Another one chimed.

His groups of friends laughed at his silliness, patting on the back, telling him to forget it.

"Forget it? No, I won't. That cat... it just gives me this sour feeling... of... of... I don't know." He gasped.

"You're probably just tired, man. Take a chill pill!" His friends joked. Green sighed. They just don't understand.

After he parted ways with them, he slowly trudged along the pavement, moving in the direction of his house.

Until he felt a chill up his back.

He spun around instinctively, finding himself looking eye-to-eye to a pair of almost-human red eyes.

"Ah." He exclaimed.

Suddenly the cat leaped off, swiftly running down the pavement.

"Hey! F***!" Green sputtered, once again spewing out a vulgarity. "Wait, you-!"

He chased after the cat, bumping into many people. The black cat weaved in and out of the crowd, while Green desperately tried to keep up with it. The teenager felt almost nostalgic as he chased after the cat, as if he had did this so many times but failed to succeed. Somewhere in him, something was screaming at him to not screw this up, and to capture the feline without fail.

Taking a jump, he pounced onto the cat.

"Gotcha!"

Scrambling up, Green found himself right next to the riverbank. He had ran quite far away from the streets. Then, he glanced at his hands, expecting the cat to be in surrender.

But no, his hands were empty, and a heavy feeling weighed in his heart.

Messing his hair up in annoyance, he moaned and groaned, feeling horribly angry and sore. He took a look at his surroundings, but in the dead of night, he supposed he won't be able to find the cat any longer. Picking himself up, he got ready to leave, until he came face-to-face with a person.

He stumbled backwards in surprise, and barely held his balance. Wanting to berate the person before him, he opened his mouth, already prepared to shoot out vulgarities, until he stopped short in bewilderment.

It was a raven-haired teenager, intense red eyes staring at him. He donned a red vest and ripped jeans that looked as if they haven't been washed his whole life. Then Green noticed something really strange about this boy.

A pair of black, cat-like ears were sitting atop of his hair, two tails swishing behind him.

"What the-"

The boy thrust out his hand.

Green stared at him in pure shock.

"What... the f*** are you?" He said warily. "Bastet? The Grim Reaper?"

"Well, those two are quite extreme, aren't they." The boy spoke. "And I see you're as vulgar as ever."

Green stood there, jaw-dropped, as he gaze at this strange being before him.

"You want to fight, right?" The boy said again. "So now I'm here, just throw your fist at me."

"Huh?"

The boy looked visibly disappointed. Sighing, he started cracking his knuckles.

"Well, here I come."

And before Green knew what was going on, a solid fist was pummeled right at his face.

* * *

"Hey sonny, you alright?"

His grandfather, Samuel Oak, asked as his grandson stumbled into the house, all bruised and scratched.

"I got into a fight."

"I can see that." The old man sighed. "Was it with Vincent? Or Aaron? Or-"

"A cat."

"Sorry?"

"A cat-boy... No... Bastet? The Grim Reaper?" Green said dully. "I don't know anymore."

The teenager dragged his feet back to his room to nurse his wounds, while Samuel Oak sat at his rocking chair, wondering what his grandson was talking about.

* * *

"Oof!" Green cried out as the wind got knocked out of him. He staggered backwards, before he landed on his buttocks. Meanwhile, the cat... the cat-boy, coolly walked towards him.

"You know, when I was still human, still part of that world, I never got to hit you once, after all that bullying you did. I guess this is quite satisfactory." The cat-boy said with a smile.

And with that, he dealt another blow at Green at the chest.

Green glared at the cat-boy. After losing to him... it, thrice in a row, he had quite enough. In a fit of rage, Green pushed himself up, grabbed the cat-boy by his collar, and after making sure he had a good hold of him, he started hitting him, hard in the stomach.

"You f*****, don't get so full of yourself!" Green yelled.

Yet, the cat-boy bit him on the arm, and suddenly judo-threw him down onto the grass. Moaning, Green attempted to stand, but the pain pinned him to the ground.

"I could say the same thing to you."

And the next moment, Green whited out.

* * *

Red went back to his make-shift home, a small cardboard box sitting silently underneath the bridge. He slowly limped towards it, before he slipped, falling flat onto the concrete with a thud. Staying in human form was no easy matter. He didn't know how he did it, and why he could do it, but he supposed it was God's way of letting him do his thing.

But even in human form, he knew it took a toll on his body. The wounds and bruises he suffered in human form was no mere injuries once he converted back to his cat form. And bit by bit, he knew his second life was coming to an end.

The next fight will be the last.

And it will be their last fight.

* * *

"Hey cat-boy." Green snapped. "This time, I will win."

"I expect you to." The cat-boy said in reply.

"And if I win, you tell me your name."

The cat-boy said nothing.

* * *

Green kicked the boy harder. And harder. Until he was certain that the cat-boy was finally drained of his strength.

Dropping him down onto the grass, Green's legs gave way and he collapsed to the ground. Punching his fist into the air, he grinned triumphantly.

"Hey, cat-boy. I won." He panted.

No answer.

"Tell me your name."

No answer.

"Hey, cat-boy..."

No answer.

A cold, bleak wind blew, tousling Green's brown hair.

The boy pulled himself up, crawling over to where his rival laid.

 _Rival?_

The moment he laid eyes onto the body of the black cat, an incredibly lonely sensation swept over him. He punched the ground, repeatedly, as he wailed. He cursed, over and over again, as tears forced themselves out of his eyes. He glared at the corpse with love and hate, at those eyes that seemed to tear him apart.

As the green eyes met the red ones, all Green Oak could think of, was a name.

 _Red._


End file.
